


Watercast domestic outtakes

by Fishwrites



Series: Watercast [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Avian Shiro, Avians, Babies, Domestic Fluff, Family Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Married Couple, Merman Lance, Newborn Children, Parenthood, Shiro is the world's most enthusiastic godfather / uncle, Toddlers, Wing Grooming, Wingfic, Wings, avian keith, living his best retired life with one (1) avian babie, merfolk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-04-06 12:15:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19062487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fishwrites/pseuds/Fishwrites
Summary: Set in the vague future of Watercast verse, featuring Avian Keith, Merman Lance (post chapter 14) and a fluffy avian baby (with merm toofs). Sheer domestic soft and intimate family moments.(No need to have read watercast).





	1. Once upon a time...

**Author's Note:**

> I know the main Watercast story is not quite yet finished (one more chapter + epilogue to go) but I really wanted to share some softes. So here we are. I hope you enjoy the klance domestic moments!

No one would make the mistake of saying Layla was a low maintenance baby...she had her habits and her habits were law. 

One of those habits happened to be bedtime stories.

No matter how tired she was (or how tired everyone else was), there would be no sleep for  _ anyone _ if a bedtime story was not dispatched at the appropriate time. 

It began as a bribe for her to brush her teeth.

“If you stay still,” Lance said one evening, holding toothbrush aloft like a weapon, “Daddy will read you an amazing story before bed. How’s that.”

The mirror was covered in toothpaste.

Lance was covered in toothpaste.

“Buh….” said Layla, unconvinced. She didn’t like the taste of toothpaste, and they had an entire bin full of broken toothbrushes to prove it. She pouted and turned her face away from the tooth brush that Lance was still waving hopefully in her vicinity.

Lance raised both eyebrows at Keith.

“Daddy knows the  _ best _ stories, isn’t that right Keef.”

Keith, sensing the mounting pressure, nodded with exaggerated enthusiasm.

“That’s right,” he said, “we can have a - it’ll be a very exciting story about dragons. You like dragons, don’t you sweet pea?”

Layla blinked her big round eyes at him, and stretched out her arms. 

“Uh uh,” said Lance, holding her still against the bathroom vanity, “brushy first, then story time. Will you be a good girl?”

“Dah-dee,” said Layla, looking from Lance to Keith. Keith’s heart constricted dramatically as it did everytime she said that. 

“That’s right,” he said, leaning against the bathroom door, “a cool story about a girl who finds a baby dragon and helps the dragon brush his teeth. Dragons have lots of teeth, just like you Layla.”

“Say  _ ah _ for mama,” said Lance, replenishing the toothpaste carefully, “come on!  _ Ah - that’s it!” _

Reluctantly, eyes still fixed on Keith, Layla opened her mouth. Lance saw the opportunity and took it - brushing rapidly and holding Layla’s mouth open with one thumb wedged against the side of her mouth. It was a tried and true method, but Keith’s hands didn’t have any protective scales on them and so bore the scars of tiny baby tooth marks all up and down the length of his thumb. 

Fatherhood, he thought fondly.

“What are you looking so sappy about,” muttered Lance, flipping the toothbrush to get the top of Layla’s teeth. She made a  _ unnhhheewwwwwww  _ noise and squirmed, trying to clamp down her mouth, but Lance just tilted his hand and kept brushing.

“Almost there baby,” he said, “ _ aaaaalmost _ there, don’t get angry now.”

“You’re doing great, dove,” said Keith encouragingly, “so many teeth! Wow!”

“Yes, so many teeth,” said Lance darkly, “Ah -  _ no  _ Layla, no biting the toothbrush! Ah! Ah!”

“AHHH,” said Layla, face scrunching with displeasure. Lance gave the front of her teeth a last brush, and then ran the water in the sink, holding Layla so she could spit out the toothpaste. She did so with great gusto, wings and legs pedalling madly; the soft brown-grey fluff tapping against Lance’s elbow everytime she moved her arms. 

“I can’t smell anything but - “ Lance started.

Keith leaned in for a quick kiss.

“I changed her after dinner already,” he said, smoothing one hand over the cotton fluff of Laylas wings. They were still small compared to her size, but Keith knew they would grow firm and strong. Right now, she felt so fragile in his hands. 

Layla was gurgling water happily, her tiny gills flitting open and shut as she stuck her face into the sink. 

“Oh crap,” said Lance, pulling her out. She squealed, chubby cheeks round with a big smile. “Oh cupcake, I  _ just _ got your hair dry for bed. Keith, can you - “

Keith passed him a small soft face towel.

“- thanks,” said Lance, dabbing her wispy hair with the towel. Keith reached around him to turn off the tap. Their gaze met in the mirror, and Lance smiled at him, soft and fond. 

“She’s got a lot of hair,” said Lance, patting around Layla’s ears, “haven’t you darling? Got your daddy’s ugly mullet”

“DAH- _ dee! _ ” said Layla, recognising the word.

“There’s nothing wrong with thick hair,” said Keith, “it’ll keep her warm!”

“She’s got lots of blubber to keep her warm,” said Lance, blowing kisses onto Layla’s tummy. She clicked at him, a dolphin noise, before switching back to a more avian-like chirrup. “Lots of blubber my little seal, yes you are, who is my good girl?”

“Wuhhhhree,” said Layla, wriggling all her limbs, “dah _ dee.” _

Lance sighed. He dabbed Layla’s mouth clean and then passed her to Keith, who settled her against his chest. She was a familiar warm weight, soft and clean from a bath. She smelled of milk, soap and fresh sheets and he pressed his nose into her hair, his own wings pressed close to his back in the small confines of the bathroom.

“I’m going to take a shower,” said Lance, yawning, “not sure why i’m this tired.”

“It’s okay,” said Keith, “I’ll settle her in.”

Layla reached up and clenched one tiny fist around the edge of his collar, blinking her big blue eyes up at him. Her free hand was pressed to her mouth, and there was a little drool patch already on his shoulder. 

“Luh,” she said, shifting a little against him, “dahhhhhh.”

“Yes, yes, okay miss,” said Keith, laughing under his breath, “a promise is a promise.”

“Mm,” said Lance, leaning over to press kisses into Keith’s mouth, “she’s never this happy when I read her a story.”

Keith kissed back, slow and unhurried. 

“I think my voices are better,” he said. 

“Is that right,” said Lance, in between kisses. He made to kiss Keith on the jaw, but was stopped by a small fist. 

“UHHHHEEE!” protested Layla, hand on Lance’s mouth, “Dah-DEE!”

Lance burst out laughing.

“Okay,  _ okay, _ ” he said. 

“Why don’t you join us for story time,” said Keith, stepping sideways out of the bathroom, “we can bath in the morning together.”

Lance followed them out into the main bedroom, which was lit only by a warm lamp on the bedside table. Layla’s nest-bed was wedged in between Keith and Lance’s own pillows, raised a little but still ensconced by their blankets. She was getting old enough for an independent crib, but neither Keith or Lance wanted things to move that quickly. Keith knew he would miss having her asleep right next to his face, and he treasured every moment. 

While Lance was bathing Layla, Keith had already gotten changed into loose sleep clothes, and so he clambered straight into bed with Layla still on his chest. She made little stretchy motions as soon as they were in sight of her stuffed animal toys, and Keith passed her a long fluffy rabbit (or at least, Shiro professed it was a rabbit. It looked more like a demented ferret to Keith), which Layla immediately latched onto with a happy wriggle. 

Keith fluffed punched the pillows into shape and settled against them, sighing as he spread out his wings along the empty side of his bed. The bed itself was truly huge, built for two avians and held a  _ lot _ of pillows. He hooked his other wing against the nest-bed, creating a little divot where Layla could curl up. 

It was his  _ favourite _ position to have her in, and now that Layla was getting a little bigger, she could snuggle right up against his chest, safe in Keith’s wings. 

“Buhhh, buh, buh,” said Layla, rubbing her cheek against the soft down feathers of Keith’s inner wing. 

Lance set down a glass of water next to the bed and clambered on.

“Aww,” he said, eyes very soft, “She’s so cute when she does that. Look, she loves you!”

“Yeah?” said Keith, nudging Layla who was nomming down on the ear of the rabbit toy, “do you love dah-dee?”

“Buh,” said Layla, eyes crinkled. She waved the toy at him, whacking it repeatedly against the side of his wing, “BUH BU BUH!!!!!!”

“I think she wants your dragon story,” said Lance in faux seriousness. He settled himself in next to Layla, forcing Keith to open his wings a little more so they could both fit. 

“Ugh, i’m gonna get wing cramp if you lie there,” he complained half heartedly.

“I’ll give you a nice long massage tomorrow,” said Lance, waving a hand, “with that nice bergamot oil Shiro got last week.”

His eyelids lowered.

“I’ll be  _ very _ thorough.”

Keith felt himself go bright red to the ears. 

He was saved from any response by Layla grabbing a fistful of his feathers and  _ yanking. _

“Ah-OWCH,” yelped Keith, “Pumpkin!”

“You’re meant to be sleepy times,” said Lance, poking Layla in the tummy, “hey? Settle down now, shrimp.”

“Buhahaub,” said Layla, “book!” and kicked her tiny feet against Keith’s ribs. 

“That’s right!” said Lance excitedly, “book!”

At her mother’s enthusiasm, Layla giggled and kicked a little harder. Keith sighed. 

“Oof,” said Keith in mock pain, “are you ready to hear the story about the fearsome dragon, or are you going to stomp daddy to death?”

“We want to hear the story,  _ dahdee _ ,” said Lance smiling sweetly and propping his chin on one hand. Keith narrowed his eyes at him. 

“No interrupting,” he said. 

Lance gave him an innocent look. 

“I’ll be the  _ best _ audience,” he said, “I’ll gasp in all the right places.”

“I mean it,” said Keith, “you always keep interrupting me.”

“Are you going to tell the story or not?!” said Lance, “Her royal highness Layla is  _ waiting. _ ”

Keith leaned back on his pillows with a huff of breath. 

“Okay,” he said, clearing his throat, “okay. Once upon a time….”

* * *

Keith woke with a jolt, a squeal right next to his ear and the sound of Lance laughing softly.

“Wha - “ he spluttered, blinking furiously, “I - uh - “

“Oh  _ Keef, _ ” said Lance, “Layla - Layla no, stop jabbing okay, it’s sleep time, daddy’s very tired.”

“Noeeeeee,” Layla whined, “buh!”

“What - “ said Keith, rubbing at his eyes. 

Lance was smiling down at him, eyes creased with affection. He was holding Layla, who was boneless and sleepily fussing against Lance’s chest. The latter shushed her, shifting her up so she was closer to his shoulder. 

“Oh hush,” said Lance, kissing her forehead, “you’re not hungry, it’s not milk time. You fell asleep in the middle of the story,” he explained at Keith’s bleary confusion. “Several times.”

Keith blinked hard. He genuinely could not remember. 

“Really?” he said, sitting up. 

A soft huff of breath.

“Really,” said Lance, “and everytime you paused, your daughter here would give you a big jab in the cheek and you’d wake up and keep going.”

Keith rubbed at his jaw sheepishly.

“The dragon had stolen twenty thousand sheep,” said Lance helpfully, “you were up to the part where the city wanted to tax the girl for all the livestock she was amassing.”

“Oh,” said Keith.

“Riveting stuff,” Lance continued, rocking Layla a little against him before moving across the bed and lowering her into the nest crib. She snuffled, making sleepy meeping noises. Lance crooned back at her, a low smooth humming tune at the base of his throat. It was a familiar sound now - a lullaby that floated long the edges of Keith’s own tiredness. He would often wake in the middle of the night to the sound of Lance singing to Layla, rocking her back to sleep when she was feeling fussy or unwell. It was voice steady with love, and it soaked the walls of the bedroom like a prayer. It soothed the edges of Keith’s own abrupt wakefulness, and he sank back against the sheets, face turned so he could watch as Lance tucked the blankets around Layla, slotting the rabbit toy up against the headboard. 

Lance bent over, kissing Layla carefully, once, twice above each eyelid. He smoothed back her hair, and she turned to follow his hand, face relaxing into sleep. 

There was a long moment when they just both stared at her, and Keith wondered if it was possible for his lungs to burst from this quiet happiness. 

Then Lance shifted back onto his heels, shoulders sloped and shadow long and slim against the lamplight. He reached for the jug of water, and the sound of it hitting the glass was somehow calming. He drank, and then passed the glass to Keith. 

“Thanks,” said Keith, taking a long gulp before setting down the glass on the other bedside table. He shifted onto his side so that he could extend one wing over the baby bed and across over to Lance, who curled up, chest to Layla and Keith, ankles locking with Keith’s at the foot of the bed. He pulled the blankets up to their waists, letting Keith’s wings settle over his shoulders. Blindly, he reached behind him to turn off the lamp - throwing the room into darkness that was broken only by the sudden luminous glow of Lance’s sea-blue eyes. 

“I guess we will continue the story tomorrow night,” said Keith, yawning. He curled his wing in, feeling the edge of it scrape against Lance’s bareback, scooping him closer. Layla was pressed between them, a warm lump of feathers and soft breathing. 

“It was a very boring story,” said Lance, “you’d think that after everything we’ve done and been through...you’d be able to make up something more exciting.”

Keith snorted, pulling the tie out of his ponytail. He smoothed a hand over Layla’s wings, and then reached over to where Lance was, patting for his hand. Lance found it, and laced their fingers together. 

“Not meant to be exciting,” said Keith, yawning again, “...mean to be ...sleepy.”

Lance’s eyes slid shut, the blue-glow dimming as he tilted his head back. His breathing was slowing too, evening out in tandem to the tiny inhale-exhales of Layla’s small body. 

“I suppose you’re right, Keef,” said Lance, words slow with sleep. He hummed a low, melodious note, like an absent-minded drop of a stone into a deep, deep lake. 

Soon, they were all asleep.


	2. Peepers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby birds take a while before they open their eyes

Lance was getting worried by the end of the first week and Layla still hadn't opened her eyes. 

She was nursing just fine, and she would meep very insistently at all hours - but her little wrinkly face was still half scrunched up and her eyes closed shut. 

“Are you  _ sure _ it’s normal?” said Lance, thumbing gently over her cheeks just beneath the curve of her eyes. She had tiny freckles of baby scales all along her eyelid, just like Lance did - except guppies were bright eyed and ready to go as soon as they hit the water. 

“It’s pretty normal,” said Keith, wings slung low behind Lance like a blanket. He was staring at the baby like he really wanted to just take and hold her, but Lance wasn’t ready for that yet. 

Layla snuffled into his gills, little petal mouth opening and closing.

“The book said so too,” added Keith. 

Lance gave him a Look. 

“I don’t think our baby fits into any books, Keef,” he said, dryly. 

He stroked the arch of Layla’s tiny chicken-nugget wings and winced at the uneven spiky nubs of the feathers that hadn’t quite come in yet. Lance wasn’t sure what expected when this whole thing began, but a tiny chicken nugget wasn’t quite it, somehow. 

“I just hope nothing’s wrong, that’s all,” said Lance, tilting his head so he could rest his cheek on top of Layla’s thin baby hair. She meeped at him, one tiny fist coming up to grasp at his chin. 

“She’ll be okay,” said Keith, pulling his wing closer so that it almost wrapped completely around Lance’s other side. The sweep of his feathers was too long for the height of the couch, and Lance could see the broad spread of his pinions along the carpet. He hoped baby Layla would grow into her feathers. He hoped baby Layla will  _ have _ feathers. 

She meeped again, as if sensing his doubts, offended.

“Oh shrimp,” said Lance, “I’ll still love you even if you look like a jellyfish forever.”

“She looks  _ nothing _ like a jellyfish!” Keith protested.

“No,” Lance agreed, “she looks a little worse, actually.”

* * *

By the time Layla was two weeks old, even Keith was starting to get a little stressed.

Shiro tried to reassure them that it was normal for babies to take a little while to develop, but Lance wasn’t convinced.

“How many mer-avian hybrid babies have you met,” he said, skeptical.

“Well,” said Shiro, “I mean she takes after Keith so it’s probably safe to assume that she - “

“How! Many!” said Lance.

The mermaids were worried too - every time they went down to the water, they would gather around in a tight little circle to click and coo at Layla - who would wriggle and make noises back...but her eyes remained closed. She didn’t open her eyes to nurse; and didn’t open her eyes when she woke up either. 

She spent most of her time curled up near Lance’s neck, cheek pressed to Lance’s skin.

“She likes my heartbeat,” Lance explained, when they lay down to sleep that night, “She meeps her head off when she isn’t touching.”

“I can’t hear anything,” said Keith, frowning. 

Lance gave him a kiss, before settling back onto the pillow. 

“You got that right,” he said, “And you should be thankful. She’s a loud one.”

Keith stared at the baby, who was making quiet squeaky noises - but they were barely loud enough to be heard above the creak of the sea outside and the inhale-exhale of the furniture in the house. 

“It’s good,” he said, brushing the back of his knuckle down back, “means she has strong lungs.”

“Oh, does she ever,” said Lance, yawning. 

Keith shuffled his wings, settling one very carefully over Lance and Layla so that the tip touched the rug on the other side of the bed. Lance turned in to face him, Layla still cradled on his chest. His eyes were closed too. And in moments, only Keith was left awake in the dim light of the moon. 

 

As per usual, Keith was also the first to wake. Years of habit had tuned his body to the first fleck of sunlight, and the only person who woke earlier than Keith was Shiro - and that was because Shiro operated on about four hours of sleep a night. 

This morning, however, Keith woke to a pair of wide open blue eyes. And for a moment, he thought that Lance had woken before him.

It took a long moment before he realised that he was look at Layla.

And the baby was... _ staring back - ! _

His lost his breath, frozen; body still half curled in sleep. 

The baby avian was lying on her tummy, still on Lance’s chest. But she had turned her face so that her cheek was smooshed against Lance’s shoulder, and she was staring at Keith with huge blue eyes - eyes a little too big for a normal avian face, but they were  _ Lance’s  _ eyes, like sea-glass on white sand and they were beautiful.

“Meep,” said Layla.

And Keith let out a noise in response that made Lance stir, sleepy and groggy. 

Layla blinked at him, and the motion of her eyelids was a double shift, a delayed double blink of her eyelid and a second pair of translucent-film. She had merfolk eyes. 

Behind her, Lance was blinking awake too. He smiled at Keith -  before his expression also froze. 

“Wh - Keith. Are you  _ crying? _ ”

Keith shook his head, but realised he had been crying. His face was wet. He wasn’t sure when that happened. 

“Eeep,” said Layla, smooshing her cheek a little more. Lance smiled down at her, arms coming up to shift her more comfortably - and only then did he notice her big wide open eyes. 

There was a whistling sort of noise in the room that made all the feathers on Keith’s wings stand on end. Lance was screeching. 

“Oh my -  _ oh my god _ Keith! Keith, are you seeing this? Oh my - “

“Yes,” said Keith, scooting closer, “Yes  I woke up and she was staring at me - !”

“Oh baby girl, oh my god, oh,” Lance was propping himself up, kissing Layla all over her face. She made a high-pitched squealing noise, squeezing her eyes shut as Lance kissed her on both eyelids, but they popped open a moment later, sparkling and beautiful. 

“Oh I’m  _ so relieved _ , look at you! Look at you, you’re the most beautiful princess  _ yes you are _ what a good girl, oh my god.”

“She has your eyes,” said Keith, voice coming out hoarse as if he had been screaming into the wind for an hour. He probably could scream into the wind for an hour. His heart was pumping so fast it was like he had done a sprint-flight in the last ten minutes. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the tiny nugget in Lance’s arms. 

“You’re not a jellyfish,” Lance was cooing, holding layla up by her armpits, “You’re not a jelly fish, you’re my beautiful, beautiful girl, oh god i’m so relieved. She’s beautiful!”

Lance turned her around so that Layla was facing Keith, little legs wriggling. She looked a little perplexed at all the excitement, but her tiny wings were moving along side her arms. 

“Can I hold her?” asked Keith, hands hovering hesitantly.

He didn’t miss the split second of hesitation in Lance’s own face - but to his surprise, Lance nodded and carefully leaned over to put Layla on Keith’s chest. Keith felt like he was going to vibrate right out of his very skin, having the weight of her, the soft anchoring presence, so close - and then his cheek was on her forehead, and he could feel her mouthing at his neck, a tiny line of drool from her mouth sticking to his collarbones. He carefully cupped her from her bottom and back, making sure to cup the back of her neck. She blinked at him, curious and attentive. 

“You’re crying again,” said Lance, very soft and very fond, “Keef.”

Keith sniffed and it was a very undignified sound. 

For a very long moment, they sat like that, propped on their pillows and very close, Layla on Keith’s chest, the tip of her wing occasionally poking him under the chin. 

And the moment was broken when she made a distinctive sucking motion on Keith’s neck, and Lance visibly winced. 

“What?” said Keith, trying to get a hold of Layla to keep her in position. She was shifting restlessly, limbs flailing and hands waving. “Nugget, what are you - “

“She’s squawling,” said Lance, “And if you don’t give her back she’ll - oh, oops, there she goes.”

Layla had found Keith’s nipple and bit down. 

Keith yelped.

“Told you,” said Lance, “Gotta be quick.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm always here for squees on [tumblr ](http://fishwrites.tumblr.com)and [twitter](http://twitter.com/fishwrites). By the way, interested in what platforms you guys use for **(original fiction) ebooks**? (e.g. amazon, B&N, nook, apple itunes ebooks etc!)

**Author's Note:**

> I will updating this outtake fic collection weekly; hope you enjoy the self indulgent softs. I've been working on an original note (have written about 38K) but at a cross roads with regards to how to share. The recycling of watercast universe details / plagiarising has been a bit stressful just as an emotional thing (i know that sort of thing is not really copyright) so I'm not sure whether I want to pursue traditional publishing or self publish as a web serial. I think the latter! Please follow my [**tumblr** ](http://fishwrites.tumblr.com)for more fluffy snippets -- i think i'm going to launch my own website soon for lot sof fic, maybe even oriignal of watercast! (which will be available to read for free).
> 
> THere's actually also beautiful illustrations for this which hopefully Soylante will let me post one day sldkfaj .


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